Story of a 14 year olds life
by SkylarLovesYou901
Summary: Hello! My name is Skylar, and I'm here to tell you all the sad, happy, and unforgettable moments I've been through..go ahead! It's not boring, I promise ;). They say, "life is a box of chocolates."... PS: BTW, the category has absolutely NOTHING to do with ANYTHING. I'm really bad at selecting categories.


What's so interesting about one's boring, drab existence? But no...I think otherwise. Many, many people are in my situation... But sadly have no one to complain to. So I, Skylar, a 14 year old am here to share my pain, laughter, and unforgettable memories with you. :)

I was welcomed to this world on November 3rd. It was a gray, rainy day. Thunder sent uncontrollable fear into the hearts of people. My mother didn't seem to be in shock, not surprised, not even a fake smile across her face. Nobody cared I was born. No wait, let me rephrase that. Nobody was _involved_ in this to care I was born. My parents got a divorce back when my mom was still pregnant with me. It was so sad, that _I_ was the reason for their separation. Both my grandparents passed away long ago, leaving my mom all alone to raise me. I was a chubby, ungrateful child who wanted too much. And my mom never seemed to let me down. My mom worked as a teacher in a prestigious university. She never seemed to have enough time for me. Never seemed to love me enough. Sure, she hired two babysitters to keep an eye on me. She bought me a phone at the very young age of 6 years old to keep me entertained. Yes, she always bought me expensive designer ... Everything. Even food, she never let me eat at a 'low-class' restaurant like McDonald's. Until one Sunday night, at around 11 PM, -my mom had just recently hired a new cook for us-, I heard a high, blood-curling scream. I rushed down to see what has happened, but there was too much thick smoke that made it extremely hard to keep my eyes open at all. There was a lack of oxygen, and I was having a hard time inhaling. I tried to get up to my knees to open a window, when I saw people running down our front yard. And then it became very clear: My house was on fire.

Even though they knew I was there, no one seemed to run into the house to at least try to save my life. I didn't know what to do, I was only 10 at the time. Running out the door wasn't an option, fire had already burned that down to ashes. Not thinking hard, I rushed back to my room. Locked the door. Then I prayed. I prayed to make it out alive. Then I remembered something-the kissing hand. On the first day of school, like most other children, I was scared and bewildered. My mother took my hand and layed a kiss on the back of my hand. It sent a warm, tingly feeling down my entire body. She told me that even when I couldn't see her, she was always gonna be with me, no matter what, no matter where, she was always gonna be there, like a comforting, soft voice saying "don't give up, kid." I hugged my pillow. For once in my life, I needed my mom to be with me. I needed her to wrap her arms around me and hug me to death. I needed-

There was a knock on the door. Someone was gonna knock the door down if I didn't a answer it quickly. So I did. Fortunately for me, firemen were there, waiting to save my life. One of them carried me out of the house, lead me to safety. There was a crowd of people waiting for me outside, glaring at me with pale faces, their mouths dangling open. But there was one person I didn't see. The only one person I wanted to see wasn't there for me. I watched, unamused as the firefighters put out the fire. _Where was I going to live? How will my mom pay for another house for us to live in?_ I saw one of my baby sitters dial my mom's number. Then, the most important thought of all, _what was my mom going to think about this wreck?_ I couldn't make out what she was saying, due to all those people whispering amongst themselves. I waited there for about half an hour, staring at what used to be my house, until a Mercedes Benz came speeding down our street. _Yes, it was my mother._

We rented a hotel room in a 5-star hotel nearby. No, even if our house burnt to the ground, my mother wouldn't come crawling back to my father. _**Never.**_ My mom was out all the time, looking for an apartment, I supposed. It was the toughest time of my life. Even tougher than the time when I had a huge fight with my best friend at school. Worse than the time I failed almost every subject and got grounded for 2 months. Worse than anything that could ever happen to me. _**Or was it?**_ My mom eventually found a small, crowded apartment that looked like something my great-grandma would live in. Mom said it was a "temporary living station". I skipped school for about two weeks, but I couldn't keep hiding forever. I didn't have any 'cute' clothes to wear to school, all I had were ugly matching polka-dot jeans and shirt from wal-mart that made me feel like vomiting whenever I looked at them. But, unfortunately, I had to face the music expected, some people questioned me about why I was gone for all this time, and some even made fun of my outfit.

But my crush kept silent. My crush..I feel ashamed whenever I mention it, but my crush is a girl. How could I like someone the same gender as me? I've known her since 1st grade, but I developed feelings for her in the 5th grade. She was out of my league. She was the most popular girl ever since I knew her. Nobody knew about it, not my best friend, not my mom, no one.

No one but my diary.

Sometimes i wonder if she likes me back. The first day of school, we got to chose where we wanted to sit. She ditched her friends from the 'popular crew' and took a seat right next to me. She would start unnecessary conversations with me. Now that I think about it, even though I love her to death, I was too bashful to start a conversation with her. She always talked to me, and I'd listen to her. She wasn't really 'pretty', but did I like her? _Yes._ Did I want to like her? _NO!_ If somebody found out, I would be screwed. But I just did. I would daydream about her all the time, I would draw portraits of her and hang them up in my room, and I noticed that I started listening to slow,classical music. However,she wasn't nice. She was the total opposite. She would act like your friend, force you to tell her your secrets and swear she wouldn't tell, then she'd back stab you and start gossip about you with her little friends behind your back. Luckily, throughout 5th grade, I didn't get involved in a situation like that with her. But I desperately tried to get her attention and did everything I can.

5th grade was over, but I haven't gotten over my crush. I stayed the same. On the first day of middle school, I decided to set a goal for myself-to talk to _her_ at least every day, because here's the deal-she in the same class as me-in every single subject. It was a miracle, but for some reason, everyone seemed to change. More like, everyone see,ed to be twice as mean as last year.. _ **even her.**_ I would gradually try to talk to her, and most of the time she'd talk to me back. One day in math class, she was sitting behind me, when I felt someone braid my hair.i turned back to see who was doing it-and was more than surprised to see that it was HER...I tried to hide my blush when she smiled at me. Then, another day, she asked to see my brand-new designer watch. If I took it off and showed it to her, it would hurt her feelings. But if stretched my hand towards her, I'd seem desperate, since it was obvious that I was crushing on her-due to, I don't know...my APPEARANCE... She took my hand suddenly and it took me by complete surprise. Her hand was so warm, so gentle. It send shivers down my spine. She was holding my hand. I had to keep reminding myself that there wasn't any chance of her liking me back to NOT have a complete meltdown. Then, the other day, in bio, she was panicking because she forgot to study for a test. She was too cute-her eyes were wide, she had a bewildered expression on her pale face, and she looked so unsure.-I thought I was about to melt right then and there.

I loved her. Even after what she did to me, even after the big scar she left in my little heart, even after she back stabbed me, I still loved her.

~~ _TO BE CONTINUED~~_


End file.
